


Tell Me What You're Thinking

by JGoose13



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Brief mentions of domestic abuse, Confessions, F/M, Feral!Tim, I hope I have everything tagged, Injured!Lucy, Unbeta-ed, implied domestic abuse, this one got away from me a bit, yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGoose13/pseuds/JGoose13
Summary: Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen arrive at an alleged domestic disturbance. Things do not go as smoothly as anticipated.
Relationships: Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 147





	Tell Me What You're Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> **CW: implied domestic abuse**
> 
> Based on a prompt from tim-lucy on Tumblr: "I am a sucker for Tim going feral when Lucy gets hurt or vice versa 🙈"
> 
> This one got away from me... so I apologize, haha. You know the drill, it's unbeta-ed as hell.

It should have been an open and shut call. 

Dispatch had come over the radio with a 415, possible domestic disturbance. Tim figured it would be just a regular ol’ lovers’ spat.

“7-Adam-19, show us en route,” Tim intoned over the radio, before gunning it.

“So what’re you going to get me as a graduation gift?” Chen asked, in that all too annoying yet adorable way of hers. 

Tim didn’t take his eyes from the road, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “I think the real question is what’re you going to get  _ me _ for training  _ you _ , Ms. I’m-the-Best-Gift-Giver?”

“Well, I figured that was a given.” 

“And you think I’m supposed to get you something for doing your job? My gift is my knowledge. What more could you want?”

When she didn’t answer right away, Tim had a distinct feeling she was holding back, not saying something rather important. But before he could push further about it, he turned a corner and came to a stop outside of the house. After a quick location update over the radio, both T.O. and rookie exited their shop, in sync, not that Tim noticed such things. They approached the front door of the house, and quickly registered the loud, angry yelling of two people that probably should never have married in the first place. 

Tim stood back, allowing Chen to top the stairs first. She reached up, banging her fist on the door, identifying themselves as LAPD officers. The arguing stopped right away, and the door opened. A thirty-something woman popped her head out, dark brown hair tucked up in a top knot, blue eyes shimmering with tears. 

“Ma’am, we received a 9-1-1 call about a noise complaint. Everything okay?” Chen asked. 

The woman sniffed, and nodded. “Yeah, no, everything’s fine. Must’ve been my music. I’ll make sure I turn it down. Sorry for the trouble.” She made to close the door, and before Tim could reach out to stop it, Chen had beat him to it. 

“That’s some interesting music you got there. What band are you listening to?” 

“Is there a problem, officers?” 

The husband, also a thirty-something with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, had appeared behind the woman, opening the door a little further. He stood behind her, too close, in that intimidating way Tim had seen so many times on so many domestic disturbance calls. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. And judging by the straight, tense line of Chen’s shoulders, she didn’t either. 

“Afternoon, sir, we were dispatched to this location for a noise complaint. Reports of violent arguing.” 

“Oh, wow,” the man all but gasped, doing a horrible job at looking surprised. “Whoever called must’ve been referring to another house. Nothing like that here.” 

“So the shouting and screaming we heard walking up to the door was nothing?” Chen asked. Tim knew her eyebrow was quirked, in that skeptical way she was so good at. 

The guy tensed, reaching up to grip the side of the door and his wife’s shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed, the glower and thunder appearing. “I can’t tell you what you heard, officer, but it wasn’t shouting and screaming.” Tim didn’t like his tone, especially not in the way he spoke to Chen. 

“Ma’am,” Tim piped up, feeling his own annoyance bubbling. “Can you please step out here so we can speak to you?” 

The woman made to step forward, but the man’s fingers curled, gripping her shoulder. A bit too tight, judging by the flinch that flashed across her features. Oh yeah, Tim was over this now.

“Sir, remove your hand from your wife, now, and I won’t take you to jail. Your choice.” 

One long, tense minute later, the guy finished weighing his options and relinquished his hold on his wife. She visibly relaxed, and stepped across the threshold. Tim descended the front porch steps onto the front lawn, motioning for her to follow him. 

He should’ve known better. Should’ve seen it coming. 

In a flash, the guy took Chen by surprise, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside the house. Tim sprung into action instantly, bowling past the wife and scaling the three steps in one leap, but not in enough time. The asshat had gotten her all the way inside, and slammed the door in Tim’s face. With the metallic slide of the deadbolt, so too did Tim’s heart drop into his stomach. 

The woman behind him began screaming her husband’s name, realizing what he had done. Tim didn’t even register, all he could think about was getting this door open. Getting to Lucy. God, he hated it, but panic set in. Scrambling his thoughts, his hands shaking. All of his training, all of the things he knew, suddenly flew out the window, and he was pure, icy fear.

Shaking himself, Tim sobered a little at the thought that every second counted; the longer Lucy was in there, the more damage that could be done. He heard a muffled yell and glass shattering, but couldn’t tell whether it had been Lucy or the guy.

_ What the fuck are you doing, Tim? _

He stepped back, and with all of his might, reared back his foot and kicked it where the door was most vulnerable. The latch shattered, and the door swung open. His gun was out of his holster and cradled in his palm in an instant, the familiar feeling of metal bringing back his senses, bringing back the laser focus of the cop. 

Tim rushed in, following the sounds of a struggle to the living room where Lucy wrestled with the guy. He was easily almost a foot taller than her, but Tim had seen her take down bigger guys. 

Before Tim could get in there, get his hands on this guy and teach him a lesson, the asshole had Lucy’s back against his front, a shard of glass from a broken flower vase pressed to her jugular. A quick once over and Tim took note of a red mark on her cheek bone, which would turn into a nice shiner by this evening, and she had an open, weeping cut to her bottom lip. Lucy didn’t look scared, she looked pissed.

Tim wished he could say the same. He was scared shitless. 

“Step back!” The guy yelled, jerking Lucy back. Tim watched the shard dig into her neck; a single drop of blood dripped free. His vision went blurry for a split second, and then he saw red, more crimson than the lifeblood leaving Lucy’s body. Sirens wailed in his head, ringing from ear drum to ear drum. The sound roared across his skull, in his blood, and the next thing he knew, Tim had Lucy thrown onto the nearby couch and straddled the prick, his fists connecting with the guys face over and over. He couldn’t stop, not until the guy was ten times bloodier than Lucy. 

“- _ im _ !  _ Tim _ !” 

Hands curled around his arms, yanking him back and off the guy. He flailed, very undignified when he thought back on it, legs pumping, trying to get back to the asshole. 

Nolan’s face swam into his line of sight, and then West’s, and reality came crashing back. 

_ Holy shit, he’d really gone for that guy _ . 

In a very un-Bradford like manner. 

He had more tact than that, more couth. And because of his momentary complete loss of control, Grey was going to have his ass. 

“Lucy,” he growled, yanking his arms free from Nolan and West’s grasp. “Where is she? Where’s Lucy?” 

“She’s okay, Tim, she’s fine.” 

Tim had been dragged outside, onto the front lawn. There were several patrol cars, flashing red and blue lights waking him further and further from his trance.  _ Shit, he’d really fucked up _ . 

A patrol officer exited the house with the abuser in cuffs, and Tim saw that deep red again. He lunged, but stopped short when Nolan and West grabbed him, anticipating his actions. 

The guy did not look good. His face was bloodied, but judging by the hollering and swearing he was doing, Tim figured he’d be fine. No concussion. Just some bruises.  _ Wimp _ .

Lucy followed out not long after, looking a little shaken, but a lot more composed than Tim. How did she do that? 

Their eyes locked, warm brown meeting harried blue. 

And then she was there, in front of him, that red mark already bruising, the cut red and swollen, but bloodless, and a single, thin trail of red down the column of her throat.

“Hey, could you guys give us a minute,” Lucy said, soft but leaving no room for questions. Nolan and West hesitated, not sure letting Tim go was the best choice, but they eventually nodded and walked off to help the sobbing wife. 

Tim’s gaze looked nowhere but Lucy, from the top of her head down to the black tactical boots, from shoulder to shoulder, examining every inch of her for any other sign of injury. He felt the panic abate slightly with each sweep of his eyes.

Slowly, she reached out, unafraid but cautious as though approaching a wild beast. Her small hands grasped his wrists, and held them tightly.

“Tim, I’m fine,” she breathed, words only meant for him despite the slew of uniforms bustling about. 

“But--”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” she said vehemently. “A cut and a black eye. I’d say that’s pretty okay, wouldn’t you?” 

He hated and loved how calm she sounded, and plain hated that he wasn’t. At all. His chest burned from worry, and he wanted nothing more than to sweep her away, to keep her safe forever. 

“But--”

“ _ No _ ,” Lucy cut him off, shaking her head. “You don’t get to play the ‘what if’ game.” 

Jokes on her, he’d been playing the “what if” game since the moment the entire station realized she’d been abducted, what felt like eons ago. 

“Tim,” she tried again, this time cupping the side of his face in her palm. That touch grounded him, pulling him back more and more from the ledge he’d jumped over. “ _ Tim _ ,” she said pointedly, until he gave her what she wanted, looking her in the eye. “I’m fine.” 

Tim still didn’t believe her, but it wasn’t like he could really dwell on it right now. Before the end of the day, the entire department is going to know about this little incident. And a lot of people were going to misconstrue it. Well, they’d be right, but not because Lucy was his in any way but his rookie. 

It took the rest of their shift for him to shake off the adrenaline high. It took the better part of an hour for Grey to chew his ass out to the point Tim was sure he didn’t have one anymore. He went through the motions of a shower, thankful that shift change had already happened and the locker room was a ghost town. 

Well, at least he’d thought it a ghost town. 

Towel wrapped around his waist, Tim padded to his locker for his fresh clothes, only to find Nolan sitting on the bench, waiting for him. Tim paused, audibly huffing before proceeding. 

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh good, then you can just listen,” Nolan replied, in that way that made Tim want to punch a locker. The tone that said he was about to be graced with some sort of sage wisdom he really had no interest in hearing. “Please tell me that you and Lucy aren’t… together.” 

Tim didn’t even pause as he grabbed his clothes from his locker. 

“We’re not,” he replied. Tim abhorred the disappointment he felt at admitting that outloud. They weren’t, and they would never be. 

“I don’t want her reputation ruined in any way,” Nolan said, not sounding like he believed Tim one bit. 

“Well, it won’t be,” Tim snapped, quickly jamming on his boxer-briefs and then his jeans. “Because there’s nothing going on.” 

“You sure? Tim, you didn’t see yourself earlier. You were  _ rabid _ .”

“What? A T.O. can’t be afraid for their rookie? The same rookie who was almost the victim of a copycat serial killer?”

“Of course, I’m not saying that you can’t be--”

“Okay then, Boot, I don’t understand why we’re having this conversation.” Tim had already gotten the talking-to of a lifetime from Grey, discussing pretty much these exact same things. He didn’t need to hear it from a rookie. 

“You’re right,” Nolan agreed, holding up his hands. “You’re not the only one worried. I’m just looking out for her. It would gut her if everything she’d worked hard for was tainted.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Tim swiped on deodorant, then shrugged on a gray Henley. “I’d rather eat glass than ruin her like that.” 

No, there are other ways he’d love to ruin her, but he’d never be able to. Not now, not ever.

After throwing the used towel in a laundry bin, he yanked his bag out of his locker and slung the strap over a shoulder, slamming the locker with a resounding thud. 

“We done here, Boot? Or are you going to continue to give me the sanctimonious third degree?”

“I’m done,” Nolan stood. Tim wasn’t sure if he was satisfied that he got what he’d come for, but it didn’t matter to him. He didn’t live and breathe to appease Nolan. 

Tim hung back long enough to let Nolan leave first, then made for the parking garage.

The station was quiet, overnight shift now in full swing. Half the lights on the main floor were off, giving the place an eerie vibe. It reminded Tim’s internal clock that it was late, he was exhausted, and he needed to get home to sleep. 

If he thought the quiet of the station jarring, the dead silence of the parking garage set him on edge even more. Hiking the bag’s strap higher up his arm, he made for his truck. As he neared it, Tim saw someone hunched over their phone, perched on the open tailgate. 

Before he could shoot off a particularly scathing insult, that someone lifted their head, face having been hidden behind a cascade of soft, dark hair, hiding a now prominent bruise and healing cut lip. God, he hated that bandaid on her neck too.

Lucy. 

_ Shit _ . 

He’d had enough with Grey, and then Nolan. He didn’t need the object of his affections and self-destruction to add insult to injury.

“Hey,” she said, trying and failing to be cheery. 

“Hi,” he replied, digging into his jeans for his keys, passing right by her to unlock the cab. He threw his bag across the bench seat.

“I was waiting for you,” Lucy said, voice nearer, standing much closer. 

Tim really wished she wouldn’t. 

“You waited all this time? It’s late, you should go home, Lucy.” 

“I couldn’t. Not until I talked to you.” 

“You’ve been talking to me all day, Chen. Go home.” 

Lucy froze, as if the jarring change of name had slapped her. Dammit, Tim felt like an asshole. 

“I wanted to talk to you when we weren’t surrounded by a bunch of police officers.” 

Right. They hadn’t been alone for any length of time since that morning. 

Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, overwhelming fatigue washing over him, sinking into his muscles. He didn’t have the energy for this. Not anymore. He just needed to get through the next few days, get Chen on her way to be the great cop she’s destined to be, and him off somewhere else to be a sergeant. Somewhere far from temptation. 

“Tim.”

He hated the way her voice glided over him like a warm caress, caring and full of worry, as if he wasn’t the one that had been roughed up by a guy twice his size. 

“Yes?” 

Again, asshole, short temper coming out.

“Talk to me, please.” 

“What’s there to say, Chen?” 

“You could tell me about what happened earlier.” 

“Nothing happened. You were accosted, I kicked in a door, and I took down the suspect.” That’s basically what his version of the report said, anyway. Nice and vague, enough detail to satisfy higher ups. 

Lucy leveled him with that look he knew all too well. The one that said she saw right through his bullshit. “Tim, you and I both know there’s more to it.” 

“I really don’t know what you mean,” he said, defensive, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Stop bullshitting, Bradford,” Lucy fumed. 

“I really don’t know what you want me to say, Chen? I did my job. I protected my rookie the best I knew how after my oversight nearly got her killed.”

“What happened today was hardly your fault, Tim. No one would’ve known that guy was going to grab me.” 

“I should’ve!” Tim shouted, his words ringing along the concrete ceiling and walls of the parking garage. 

Lucy rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re not a mind reader, Tim. And you can’t see into the future. There’s no way anyone could have known. Not even you. You’re a good cop, but you’re not omniscient.” 

Tim’s anger reared its ugly head again, not at Lucy, but at the world, at life, at not being able to control  _ everything _ . His jaw clenched, damn near painfully. 

“What went through your mind, Tim. Really?” Lucy’s voice softened again, catching his gaze and holding it in that analyzing way she did. 

“Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, Boot,” Tim gritted out. 

“You Hulked out on a suspect, Tim! I’ve never seen you that angry before,” Lucy exclaimed. “I just want to understand…”

“Again, I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I want you to tell me your thoughts for once, Tim.  _ Please _ .” 

Tim hated how pleading she sounded. She didn’t beg him for much of anything, ever. 

He took a halting step forward, his arms uncrossing and falling to his sides, hands bunched into fists. 

“You want me to tell you my thoughts?” Tim asked, tone near daring, giving her the chance to back out of this. Because he was on a roll now, and there was no stopping him. It’d been a long ass day, and his patience was threadbare, and he was hungry and a bit delirious, and now he can’t keep the words from spilling forth. 

“ _ Yes _ !” 

“You want me to tell you that I think about you constantly? That, somewhere along the line, you’ve become my sun, the damn center of my universe, the very reason I get up these days to come to work. Just so I can see you. Be near you. Hear you speak. Annoy you. Fluster you. Test you…” 

_ Oh shit, Tim, you’ve done it now _ . 

The look on Lucy’s face was pure shock, like he’d stunned her with his Taser.

_ Too late to stop now _ .

“… You want me to tell you that when that guy pulled you into that house today, I thought I was going to go into a full on panic attack. And I did, for a moment. I panicked so hard and so fast, that I froze. I froze for so long, it felt like years. It might as well’ve been years, with the seconds that passed before I got my shit together. All I could remember was the desperation to find you when Caleb took you. I could remember ripping my fingertips open digging in the dirt to get you out of that barrel. You want me to tell you that when I saw that guy with his hands on you, I went about nuclear from rage and fear, that I didn’t know what I was doing until Nolan and West pulled me off the guy…”

_ Might as well go in for the kill, Tim. You’re crushing it _ .

His voice fell slightly, became less harried and manic. It grew soft, warm. 

“… You want me to tell you that all I want to do is hold you. Touch you. Kiss you. Get you in my bed and never let you leave. Because I am irrevocably, head-over-heels, in love with you, Lucy Chen, and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t fall for my rookies.  _ Ever _ . So now that  _ I’ve _ no doubt scared the absolute hell out of  _ you _ , let’s just get through the next few days of training, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Tim turned to his open door, dazed that he’d just unloaded all of that, dazed from the whiplash of it all.

_ God, he needed a drink. Or a twelve pack _ .

“Whoa, hang on a Goddamn second, you gonna leave without hearing what  _ I _ have to say?” 

Tim let out a hopeless sigh, and turned back around. 

The look on Lucy’s face was fierce. Almost angry.

_ Damn, Tim, you fucked up _ .

“You can’t just say all of that shit to me and leave!”

Oh God, she was going to go to Grey to accuse him of harassment, and rightfully so.

“I don’t want to never see you again,” Lucy continued, still fierce, his warrior. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and damn, he felt like such a bastard. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was cause her pain. “I want to see you tomorrow. And the day after that. And years from now, I want to see you.” 

Tim froze, hating the fact he had the audacity to hope in that moment. He swallowed thickly, biting back his own emotion. 

“Wanna know what I was thinking today?” Tim hated how her voice shook, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded, encouraging her to go on. “I thought about 80 different things Tim Bradford would do to get out of the situation. I thought about how this was yet another prime example of how I couldn’t always rely on having someone there to immediately save me. So I fought. I fought as hard as I could so I could come out on the other side of it. So I could see you again, to see how proud you are of me.” 

Fuck him sidewalks. 

Lucy took a minute step forward. “We only scrapped for a couple of minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. All I could think about was getting this guy on the ground and in cuffs so that I could get back to you. So I could argue with you over where we would get lunch. So I could tease you mercilessly for being such a hardass. But most of all, tease you just a little for how gentle you can be. How caring and compassionate. And how you hide behind that hard exterior shell, but beneath you’re like a warm nougat--” 

“Are you comparing me to  _ candy _ ?”

“-- and I… if I’m you’re sun, you’re my moon. Lighting the darkness of despair that sometimes crashes over me like a wave. My life vest that keeps me floating. Jesus, Tim, I’ve been so enamored with you, I thought it was obvious, even to you.” 

_ Clearly not _ . 

_ Wait, what? _

“You…?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Lucy let out a breathy laugh, brushing away a few errant tears rolling down her cheeks. “Yes, you big lunkhead. It’s always going to be you.” 

The smile that lit up her face then could have lit a thousand earths, and God help him, but he felt a smile of his own creak across his face. In an instant, they were both moving toward each other, a collision of bodies with arms wrapping tightly around the other, Tim lifting Lucy off of her toes to better access her mouth which he ravished. And Lucy gave as good as she got, lips crashing together again and again, attempting to drink their fill of the other, but knowing full well they would never be sated. 

How has his luck turned? What had Tim Bradford done to deserve Lucy Chen?

Crushing her tight against his body, Tim pressed back, reluctantly taking a few sips of air. Lucy grinned impossibly wider, resting her forehead against his. 

“We’ll have to wait, I know,” she whispered. “Timing is everything, but… I would really,  _ really _ like to know more about this getting me in your bed business…” 

Tim laughed, Lucy laughed, and feet lighter than he ever had in his life. Like he could take on about 20 of those abusers from today with nothing but his bare knuckles, knowing that Lucy Chen would always be beside him, jumping right into the fray.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter @JGoose753 and Tumblr @JGoose13.


End file.
